


The Girl in the Textbook

by Awluvtardis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, I din't actually name Ron but its him, Ron Weasley Bashing, from a prompt from the Facebook Group, meant to be pre-relationship but they're 11 so..., written at 2am with no beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23426425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awluvtardis/pseuds/Awluvtardis
Summary: Prompt: "Hermione was a child model. Not the creepy kind that did beauty pageants, but even as a six year old she had an impressive ability to look studious and had her picture in a couple of grade school math texts and some advertisements for healthy foods. It wasn’t an important part of her life and would hardly be worth mentioning if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry was so socially isolated as a child that he developed a crush on the girl in his math book."I also pulled from this comment: "I really hope this means that when they first meet on the train, Harry recognizes her immediately and gets all adorkable - not that he isn't anyway - and doesn't put up with Ron insulting her."
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 172





	The Girl in the Textbook

**Author's Note:**

> As I did a similar type of modeling, this was a bit cathartic. 
> 
> Tried my best to brit-pick.

Hermione wasn't really sure how they had chosen her, but there she was, sitting at a brand new desk in a fancy classroom at a charter school she didn’t go to wearing a plain uniform and scribbling on a sheet of paper. She was writing about her experiences that day, as the woman who was helping her said it was a good idea. She wrote about her mum waking her up early, the drive to the posh school, the lorries and adults bustling about, the cameras and weird spindly umbrella setups and makeup and uniforms and snack tables. How she was supposed to do her schoolwork while there but wasn’t sure how she could with all the excitement.

See, Hermione had been selected to have her photo in a maths textbook. There were many children just like her there as well, taking different types of photos. There was a group of boys playing footie, or were supposed to look like they were at least. They hadn’t actually been moving, just faking at kicking the ball about. They were quite a bit older than her though, as she was nine, and they seemed to be at least thirteen.

She was a bit worried about missing classes, but was placated with the knowledge she would be in a book. 

Hermione Granger, in a maths textbook! 

Of course, she wasn’t in it because she had done any sort of amazing maths, but she was going to be in it. Maybe one day she would have her name printed in it too, or write her own! For now, though, she was happy.

She snapped out of the haze of concentration when a gentle hand rested on her shoulder. 

“You did great!”

“Wait, that’s it?”

“Yep! You’ve got some more shots in about an hour, so how about you go sit on the tables and start on your schoolwork?” the woman directed, handing her a long coat to keep the borrowed clothing from getting dirty.

“Thanks! I’ll go do that!” the bushy haired girl beamed, gathering the paper she had been writing on, bounding off to find her mum.

\-------

Harry Potter knew better than to get caught reading anything resembling a novel by now. Uncle Vernon always snatched any book that wasn’t obviously from school from him. But he was always allowed his maths textbooks.

See, Harry was quite good at maths. He’d gained the attention of his teacher when he was six when he figured out a problem that the eight-year-olds down the hall were having difficulty learning. He’d gotten an A in that class, and a mix of somewhat respectable grades in the others. This, of course, had earned him the ire of Uncle Vernon. Apparently the Freak must be cheating to get better grades than his son. But when Harry started to fake being bad at school, his maths teacher noticed. So Harry managed to strike a deal with his Uncle. Harry would do well in maths, which would keep his teacher happy, but do as poorly as Dudley in all the rest. That way, Harry could be a “numbers freak”, while Vernon could still boast that his son got better all-around grades (even though Dudley really didn’t).

So Harry stuck his nose in his maths textbook whenever he had time between chores, sometimes multitasking if the chore wasn’t too movement-reliant. 

This year Vernon had griped about the new expensive texts for his new accelerated maths course, but had agreed that it would be more suspicious if Harry did not move into the accelerated course.

And it was in that text that Harry found solace. 

And it was that text that held photos of her.

He was drawn to the photos of this girl. She was about his age with loads of curly hair and a propensity to look at a sheet of paper with such concentration he doubted that banging pots and pans could tear her focus.

He started to come up with stories about her. He knew they were probably wrong, but he had already read this chapter five times, and she was magnetic. He imagined she was solving an advanced calculus problem, like the one his teacher had in the corner of the board for extra credit. Harry had been trying to figure it out, but he didn’t have a calculator with the computational power or the knowledge to figure it out without one. And, in all honesty, Harry didn’t really care for extra credit, nor did he think Vernon would take too kindly to any marks even higher than those he currently got.

But Harry had his textbook, which held the pictures of the amazing girl that drew him like a moth to a flame.

\-------

Hermione hadn’t been asked to be in any sort of photos since the textbook, but she was at peace with it. She wasn’t sure she would want to take time from school anyways. The textbook came out the next summer, and Hermione's dad had bought five copies. One for her parents, one for the dentistry (to show off to their patients), one copy for each of her sets of grandparents, and one for Hermione.  
And so, Hermione had read that text cover to cover, like all her other books, devouring the information it held. 

And when she boarded a red steam powered train for Scotland a year later, it was safely tucked away in her trunk, right next to Hogwarts, a History.

\--------

Harry was pulling his robes out of his trunk, trying to tune out the redhead boy’s prattling when he heard a voice in the doorway.

“Have either of you seen a toad?”

The redhead waved her off. “Nah. Haven't seen it. So anyways-”

Harry had stopped in his tracks though, his eyes trained on the girl in the doorway.

“It’s you!”

The girl blinked. “What?”

“What, do you know her harry?” the redhead spluttered.

“Harry? Are you Harry Potter?” the girl gaped at him. But he wasn’t moving, still looking at her in awe.

“You're in my maths text.”

“I’m- really? It's a precalculus text! I’m not even fully up to that level yet1”

“I’m in accelerated maths. Or I was… but you’re in it!”

“... you remember me?”

“Of course! I've read that book so many times! The maths is really interesting and the problems are still good practice even if you've done them before.”

“Wow! That's amazing! Personally I’m best at the sciences and history, especially chemistry and Physics. I’m pretty intrigued about how conservation of matter could possibly work in relation to the transfiguration or charming of large objects into much smaller ones, as I've seen professor McGonagall do it, even though it shouldn’t be possible!”

The redhead groaned. “Merlin, what are you, stupid? It’s magic! Harry, you really shouldn’t hang out wit’ her or you’ll start t’ sound like some sort of bookworm.”

Hermione seemed to shrink in on herself as Harry scowled. He wordlessly turned back to the trunk still lying open on the seat and hastily put his clothing and the rest of the candies he had found he liked in there, snapping the clasps, then tugging it off the seat. He looked back to the girl, gesturing to her to lead the way as he left the compartment.

“Wait! Where do you think you’re going?”

“With… Erm, what’s your name?”

“Hermione.”

“Right. Nice to meet you.” He turned back to the boy in the carriage. “I’m going with Hermione. At least she didn’t insult anyone. See ya.”

Hermione beamed at him, and he decided he liked it even more than the intensely concentrated look he had admired all the past year.


End file.
